One day, I was in my mom’s attic looking for stories I feared she’d thrown away, and found boxes of ring binders containing fiction I don’t remember writing. One binder was entitled, Thangar II: The Omen of Sint. The only thing I remember about Thangar is how I came up with the name. As a kid, I used to watch old pirate movies with guys like Errol Flynn, and before a sword fight somebody would cry, “en garde!” but what I thought they were saying was “thangar!” The second thing I recall, from when I was 8, is that after writing the original Thangar, I accidentally left it at Country Pizza Inn. When I went in the next day to find it, I discovered, to my surprise and confusion, that the writing in the binder wasn’t my own. My story. Not my handwriting. I eventually learned that a busboy who worked there, Chuck Briceno, who aspired to becoming a writer himself, had picked up my story and edited it (to this day I have no idea why he did this). Interestingly enough, Chuck moved to New York City and now writes for the New York Times. [If you’re reading this Chuck, please send me a message!] Unfortunately, I do not know what happened to Thangar, but I did manage to hold on to the sequel, which I wrote years later in 1986 when I was 11.
My birthday is this month. I’ll be 36 years old and will have been writing for 30 million years (OK, maybe not, but it sure feels like it). To commemorate, I thought it’d be fun to post Thangar II with minimal editing for the Internet world to see. Also, I name-dropped Thangar into my current novel, Age of Aenya, as a story within a story (it’s one of Emma’s favorite books). I was not exactly a Picasso when it came to writing back then, so the story is pretty awful (but unintentionally funny at times). So without further ado, I give you:
Thangar II and the Omen of Sint
Written by 11 year old Nick Alimonos
Edited by 36 year old Nick Alimonos
Chapter 1
Sint was very hungry. But he did not hesitate from his journey to eat, but continued on his way through the courtyard and into the Imperial Throne Room.
“Who goes there?” said King Thangar, after seeing Sint barging through the gates.
“It is I,” Sint said.
And the King replied, “Why have ye come hither and barged in without my permission, Sint?”
“Because I am here on a very important mission and need your help as soon as possible,” Sint replied.
“What need of thee?” the King answered him, “riches . . . gold?”
“No,” said Sint, “I need you and you alone to join me to raid a castle and save my princess.”
“But why,” the King asked him, “need me alone? I can give you one hundred knights, and one hundred jousters.”
“They’d all die,” Sint told him matter-of-factly, “for this mission is so vile . . . Within the castle is all that is evil.”
And Thangar replied, “If that is so, what can a mere king be able to do?”
“But ye are no mere king, but the mightiest warrior in the land; legend has it that ye once yielded a sword like mine,” and Sint removed a glowing sword from his scabbard.
When the king saw the sword, he was astounded. He jumped off his throne and said, “If you are telling false words, ye will be greatly punished.” And the king laid down his crown and robe, saying, “When do you need me?”
“ASAP,” Sint said.
“Then let us be on our way,” Thangar replied. “As we have no time for explanations, you will tell me your story on the journey.” And he took up his sword and armor and followed. The priests and governors were shocked at the sight of the king departing his post so hastily.
Soon, the sun fell and rose again, and Thangar and Sint were far from the kingdom in an unknown realm.
“We’ll soon reach the Creature Cavern, oh King,” Sint said to his companion.
“That is all well and good, but call me Thangar.”
“OK, Thangar,” said Sint. And their quest began.
The Art of Storytelling 
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